Vegetarian

I have not really written in detail about this before. Part of that is shame about my own behavior. I am not perfect in so many ways. I was prompted by a post that talks about animal captivity to write about this. In all honesty, being a bit drunk right now may contribute to this honesty.

I don't really know exactly what sparked the idea to be vegetarian. The movie BlackFish started me seriously considering what is wrong with animal captivity. I think my cat Mudge dying made me think about the idea of pets. This is in retrospect because the time she was put to sleep is very close to when I stopped eating meat.

I think I was reminded of how we view cats and dogs as almost human. There are books about heaven for those animals. We think of how we will meet them again in the afterlife. There are not (that I know) books of how we will meet every cow we ate in the afterlife. Those animals are ignored. This has bothered me for longer than I care admit because previously I ignored it. Those animals (pigs, cows, chickens) we ignore when we debate the pets that have a soul.

Why? How is a pig or cow different than a dog? They are smart and have emotions just like our pets. Chickens also have feelings of pain and I believe of love. They are intelligent like other species.  This difference between species is why I stopped eating meat. I stopped believing that eating beef or pork is any better than eating cat or dog. We take moral offense at the countries that view cat and dog as acceptable. Why? How is that different than species we eat except that society has told us?

Now, I won't lie.. dairy and eggs are also morally suspect. Factory farming is not a good environment. It is never humane to slaughter these animals. Dairy and eggs feed these industries. Male cows in the dairy industry become veal. Females are exhausted and slaughtered before their natural lifespan. Male chicks are killed for not being able to lay eggs.

I am not currently a vegan. I hate myself daily for eating products of animal death and suffering. Bulimia was my motivation for returning to dairy. I binged on anything (except meat) when bulimia was at its worst. Now, I have not had the dedication (alcohol being involved) to return to no animal products.

I try to buy cruelty free beauty products. I have Desert Essence brand soap. I have Nature's Gate shampoo. I use Method brand laundry detergent and I can't remember but a cruelty free brand of dryer sheet. There are still many things I need to change, but I know I am a work in progress. I try now to think (criticize if you will) of the animals I save by my choices rather than those still killed.

I do apologize for writing off topic. I do not apologize for the truth of what eating animals means. The idea of eating, using, trapping animals is something worth thinking about. It took years of thinking for me to change, so I hope only to plant a seed.

F***ed up thoughts

This week is not going very well. I'm drinking again. I'm cutting a lot. I don't really care.

Tonight, I was standing in the kitchen staring at the bottle of vodka. I was thinking about if I would need to buy tomorrow. I thought that maybe I should make this my last bottle and try to get sober again. Then I thought "I don't want to get sober. I want to die"

I realize this isn't good. It's true though. I have frequently wished I was dead lately. I had this feeling very strong at work today. A coworker just finished her PhD. Listening to her talk about it reminds me of how I haven't even finished my masters. How I can't even finish my masters.

I told myself once and then a thousand times how I would kill myself before quitting school and not graduating. I don't know when I first thought it, but it stuck in my head. I don't think I told anyone until recently mentioning it to my former sponsor. I talked to her about quitting school, and I mentioned this. Her advice was to pray about the idea of giving up on grad school. She said something about letting go of that thought.. I don't really remember.

Since then, I have prayed. I have no answer. I seriously wish I was dead when I think about school. Drinking makes this better, but sober I can't handle it.

I saw a new psychiatrist on Tuesday. He was very nice. I mentioned the drinking but said I drank 10 shots a day (which is pretty bad) rather than 14-16. In my mind, it was enough to tell him it was a dangerous amount. Telling the real amount was just unwise. I mentioned the self harm, but I didn't mention being suicidal. I think the idea was to tell him enough to make him realize I am very ill but not enough to make him discuss hospital.

I am feeling the same about everyone else. When I last talked to my sponsor, she mentioned inpatient. I had talked about buying a knife (for self harm). She told me to think of it as I can buy the knife but then go inpatient. I bought the knife, but I didn't tell her. I don't want to go inpatient, so it's safer not to tell her how bad things are.

My new psychiatrist did offer to discuss outpatient detox if I brought with me someone who I would stay with. I think B might do that, but I haven't asked. She did offer to let me sleep on her couch any time.. mainly regarding the depression. I might need to take her up on that soon because I am really self destructive. At work, I find myself not wanting to hide the cuts. I want my boss to say something. I want them to realize I need help. Nobody has said anything. I don't want to tell anyone I need help since I was let out of inpatient a month ago.

So much is fucked up in my head. I haven't told anyone the whole truth. I don't know what to do. I really believe I would rather be dead than give up on school, but I also very much want to give up on school.

Pathetic

Things have not gone entirely well the past couple days. So I mentioned in the last post that I was going to stay with my friend B and try to detox.

Saturday we went to the women's meeting. Afterwards, she took me with to a house she needed to finish cleaning (one of her jobs). Thankfully, the owners weren't home. They are also in the program.. but once I was there while one kept leaving angry voicemails with her husband's phone because she had been tracking his location and knew he was sleeping with someone else. Super uncomfortable. Anyway, she finished cleaning and I proposed lunch. We got food to take back to B's apartment. We ate and watched TV. Then she worked on studying. I did random stuff online. I did call my new sponsor while at the other house and left a voicemail about the whole plan.

Around 9 B asked if I'd eat some soup. I said ok. She knows about my eating disorder and probably wouldn't tell her I was hungry or ask for food. We ate and at some point discussed sleeping arrangements. She said I could have the bed and she would take the couch or we could both sleep in the bed (her boyfriend was out of town). I said bed was fine. I just hoped I wouldn't kick her or snore.

Well, I never fell asleep. I got up several times and finally just stayed on the couch watching stuff on my laptop because I didn't want to keep getting in and out of bed.

The next day we watched TV and she studied. I became obsessed with things moving. The fibers in the carpet moving. The text on my laptop wiggling. I actually asked her to tell me that a bag wasn't moving. Then I asked to go back to bed. I sobbed and fell asleep for a couple hours before leaving for work.

Work didn't go well. 3 times I went downstairs to cry. I texted B about staying over and then said I didn't have my meds with me and needed to feed the cats, which would make it too late. I said I was fine. Then at 11 I called and said I was very much not ok. I had set in my head I would either buy some kind of alcohol or some kind of knife. So she said come over. The couch had pillows and blankets when I got there and the TV remote by the pillow.

I watched stuff on my laptop with headphones for a while. I tried to go to sleep. I kept seeing things move.. I also could swear I heard voices like a radio when there wasn't one. I ended up making a list in my phone of signs I am going crazy. Then the bag "moving" in the room kept bothering me. I tried to hide it with a pillow. That just made it feel like one was holding the other back. I settled on a pillow over my head so I could see none of it. That was OK. It was all weird.

I'm the morning I went home and showered and changed. I went to the noon meeting. I kept wanting to cry. I walked out before the meeting and cried/sobbed in my car. Then I went back in because it sounded better than crying at home. I cried in the meeting and didn't share. After I hugged my former sponsor.. and I couldn't leave. I sat down and another woman talked to me. She even commented on scratches on my arm and how her daughter did that. Honestly, I wanted to talk to my former sponsor but the woman was nice.

I had in my head I was going to the liquor store. I called my ex sponsor from the parking lot. She texted me back to call her once I had driven there. I had also called my sponsor. Anyway we talked.. and I don't remember all of it. I went shopping somewhere else then to the liquor store.

I went to work and managed to do OK. My sponsor called in the evening, and I said I had to take the call. We talked.. a lot of it was the discussion of going inpatient. I told her about the vodka vs knife thing. She strongly suggested I sleep at B's, but I felt too guilty to call. I just couldn't. Instead I bought a new knife.. and now I'm drinking and cutting. I hate my life and wish it was over.

But I will stay alive, and I see my new psychiatrist tomorrow. Who knows how that will go...

Detox

I have decided that the physical symptoms of alcoholism are getting too bad to function normally.

At work, my hands shake, which is not just visible to others. My handwriting is almost illegible at times. It isn't just my hands. My legs twitch randomly. I keep having cold sweats. The text I am reading moves around. I sometimes feel things crawling on me. Though I have managed to convince myself that isn't real. I think my skin looks weird... like red or splotchy. Sometimes when my blood pressure is high, I think my veins stick out.

If I am having all these symptoms while still drinking, I know getting sober will be bad. The fear of withdrawal definitely influences my decision to stop. Both that I want to get sober but fear the withdrawal, and I use this as a reason to stop.

I am hoping to stop tomorrow. My friend B has offered for me to stay over. I would feel safer detoxing with someone else around. I know hallucinating is a symptom I have experienced. I would really like a sober person to tell me what I see isn't there. I am all a bit suicidal, and so maybe not being alone my thoughts is a good idea.

So my plan is to sleep there tomorrow night. I could have gone tonight, but I wanted one more night of drinking and sleeping in my own bed.

I still should talk to my sponsor. I did the writing she recommended about consequences of drinking and what I use alcohol to cope with. I am very aware that it affects how my meds work. I wrote more than that. I feel I should run the detox plan by her. I really can't take time off to go inpatient for detox. I hope I can do this at home, maybe with any Lorazepam I have left. I did detox at home the last time, but I don't remember any hallucinating that time.

I really don't understand how a month-ish relapse can cause the same symptoms that took years of drinking before. It doesn't really matter. I know I cannot function like this.

So tomorrow I will sleep at my friend B's apartment, and I will not drink. We will see what happens. I suppose if I have seizures or something, I will have to consider hospital. I really don't want to take more time off work or admit anything to do with alcoholism. Given the nature of my job, no worry how people will see this. I mean if it is medically necessary, I may get help, but I would rather just do this at home like last time. If I stay with B, I at least have someone to call for help if anything happens.

Wish me luck

Friends

Last week a friend texted me about maybe hanging out. This was the husband of a woman I've known since high school. I went to church with them for a while and then I stopped going. I don't really know why. Part was that for a while I wasn't falling asleep until 6am, so being somewhere at 10 was not realistic. Then the more services I missed, the more anxious I was about returning. I didn't want to be asked where I had been or what was going on. So I didn't see these friends and their children for months. I also became anxious about seeing them because things weren't going well with me.

I had been thinking of contacting them, but he said something first. I guess they have had a lot of health stuff going on with him and their children (Now 1 and 3), which is why they didn't contact me.

I agreed to dinner tonight and that I would bring something since I'm vegetarian now. I searched all sorts of recipes, but ended up buying a frozen meal (so happy Amy's brand makes family sized meals now). I realized I am not in any shape to cook because during therapy in the afternoon I was shaking and sweating.

Therapy was rough. I talked about wanting to quit school. Her response was that she thinks the depression is making decisions right now. We talked about needs and not valuing myself. Mostly she talked and I stared at my hands. She is talking about wanting me to go to some treatment place for a 2 week intensive program. I am really unsure what it's about. She said she could get me a scholarship. I don't want to ask for time off work after just being in the hospital.. also if I need time off any time soon it would probably be for detox.

Anyway, after that I bought things for dinner (Amy's broccoli and cheddar bake and some fruit). I went to my friend's house. Initially he talked about stuff with their kids. I went with him to pick them up from daycare. The son immediately wanted me to pick him up. That really made me happy because I was a little concerned that he wouldn't remember me after months. The daughter just turned 1, so I was happy enough she smiled at me and didn't seem terrified. We got back to the house and the son was following me around talking. I finally had to tell him I was going to the bathroom so he wouldn't follow me in. Then I heard him announce to his parents that I needed to go potty.. whatever.

I tried to focus conversations on them. I said I was just working. I eventually clarified that I am really only working and sleeping and not doing anything social. I didn't talk about the hospital stay or relapse. I didn't want the evening to be focused on that. I was happy to eat dinner, watch TV, and watch their son show me his toys.

He has story time before bed, and at the time my friend (the mom) was giving the daughter a bath since she got cheese in her hair during dinner. So story time involved me and the whole family in the bathroom listening to the book because it wasn't acceptable for anyone not to be present. Then I got a hug before he went to bed.

I left after that. It was a good evening. I think I feel a bit mixed about being around people who clearly love me, and knowing I am not well and am not telling all of the truth. They would love me even if I did, but I wanted an enjoyable evening and for a while not to think of everything bad.

We are planning on doing it again in a couple weeks. I didn't tell them I would be at church because I don't know. In the time since I stopped going, I really don't know how I feel about God.

I came home and was productive enough to call the office that handles insurance for the new psychiatrist I am seeing next week. I intentionally called when I knew it would go to voicemail because I was told if you left all the correct information, he wouldn't call back. Yay for less human contact. I also got my mail after about a week.. so lots of junk. I think that's the extent of productivity today. Now I am drinking.

Cutting

II don't think I talk a whole lot here about self harm. It's not a subject I talk about much. Not too long ago I started cutting my wrist, and it was one of the reasons my former sponsor gave for why I needed to go inpatient. She said cutting where it was visible was a cry for help. Honestly, the wrist thing is not about being visible to others. My wrists are pretty much the only part of my body I consider thin. I am fascinated by how thin they are. This led to the obsessive thought that cutting them would be beautiful. I do find the scars to be beautiful. I realize this makes no sense.

I made an effort to hide those cuts.. but barely. I put a bandage on, but that isn't really hiding. When I saw my parents, I adjusted my vivofit to cover the scars.

Well, last night I did something stupid. I cut my arm. It was low enough to show when wearing scrubs (or other short sleeve shirts). I was drunk when I did it, and I didn't think about it. Today, I realized the problem.

I didn't bother to wear something with longer sleeves under my scrubs. I did wear a tank top as usual (so if I lean forward nobody can see my bra), but I didn't wear a long sleeve shirt. This means that if I held my arm a certain way, the cuts would be visible.

Honestly, part of me wanted that. I don't know who other than my supervisor knows about my depression. I told him and the manager because I knew I might go inpatient. Since I got out, I have not mentioned the depression or drinking. If asked how I am, I say I am ok.

This is obviously not true. I am not ok. I wish I were dead. I contemplate how I could do this. I wish that alcohol might kill me.

So I almost wanted to see the cuts on my arms. Then they might understand the pain I am in. Nobody said anything, so maybe today was not successful.

Tomorrow I am supposed to visited friends and I hope to hide the self harm this time. I don't think I want to have that  conversation.

I think I want attention but not from anyone who could help me. The logic in this? I don't know. I guess I want the solution that doesn't involve getting sober. Probably not the ideal solution.

Tonight, I am not really thinking things through. I am watching TV with Nermal who doesn't care if I am sober. I am loved no matter how shitty I am. At least there's that. At least I am loved by someone.

I don't know why I am writing this. I am trying to believe I am loved unconditionally by these beautiful babies. I am trying otherwise to believe that my actions do not make me a bad person. That's not easy. I will try to believe that my depression doesn't make me a terrible person. I will try to believe people care.

I will try.
That sums up so many goals.

Alcohol=depression

So not gonna lie, I was really surprised by the comments on my last post. Not because of what anyone said (which was nice and much appreciated), but because I didn't remember writing a post yesterday. I mean when I read it, I did sort of remember. It was weird. I know I did this in the past. I have written blog posts and sent texts while blacked out. I don't think I ever called anyone, but I don't even do that sober.

Today I have been thinking about past experience when drinking. My depression was quite bad at some points in my drinking. I remember going inpatient once and absolutely convinced I was there for depression and not drinking. Never mind that they had me on Librium for detox because I was drinking unhealthy amounts.

Well, now I am remembering how alcohol affects depression. My sponsor wanted me to think about consequences of my drinking.. as well as pros/cons of it as a coping mechanism. I talked to her yesterday with not much to say other than that I wanted to give up and didn't know how anyone could help. After the women's meeting where a good friend mentioned attempting suicide last year and several others mentioned suicide, I started to think more about wanting to die. I didn't share. I didn't share later when we went to visit a woman who is in assisted living and we take a meeting to because she can't get out.

It was after getting back and getting into my car that everything hit. I wanted to cry. I thought about wanting death. I thought about how I am never going to graduate and want to quit. I want to tell my professor that I give up. I talked to my boss at work Friday to be sure it wouldn't jeopardize my job to not graduate. I teared up talking to her. She asked repeatedly how she could help, and I said she can't. Nobody can.

I really don't know if I am suicidal, but I don't want to be alive and be such a failure. I went to Target yesterday after visiting A, and driving home I remember wanting to cry and trying to hold out until I was home. I remember knowing that alcohol would shut off my thoughts. It worked. I didn't care about any of it after a few shots.

Today, I thought about calling someone after work about the depression or about school. I couldn't do it. I know that alcohol is involved with my depression. I have been listening to Madness by Marya Hornbacher and that book repeatedly mentions how her drinking makes her meds not work. I know the same is true for me. I don't want to discuss with anyone how my depression is getting worse because of the alcohol just as expected. I also don't want anyone to suggest hospital. I fear that they will say I need to be inpatient for either detox or suicidal thoughts. They might be right to suggest it, but I am not willing to go. I just got out.

So I didn't call anyone. I went to the store to buy something to use as a chaser and ran into a coworker. I hoped she couldn't tell how unhappy I was. Now I am home and drinking. I have cut myself a little, which is the other thing I don't want my friends to know about.

I think they know things are bad. My former sponsor held my hand and rubbed it during the meeting yesterday. In the past, she would rub my neck or shoulders when I was really upset during meetings. I cried during the meeting. It's possible everyone knows. I just tell most of them I am fine if they ask. It's only my sponsor, my former sponsor, and maybe one friend who I will tell things are bad. I texted my friend that I wanted to quit school, and her response was that she didn't know what to say. I understand that. It was not something that I should share via text, but I just can't call.

I know alcohol is a depressant. I know it interferes with meds. I also know it is supressing my other thoughts and feelings. I am also very defensive of it. I know if I talk about or try to get help for this depression, that it would be brought up that I am drinking heavily. It will come up that I have experienced this before. I know that I need to stop drinking, and I don't want to be reminded that I should know better. I should, and I do. I just keep drinking anyway.

So I don't tell anyone about the depression because I don't want to do what is necessary to fix it. I don't care about wanting to die because drinking is a slow death anyway. I want to tell someone, but I am not willing to go inpatient again.

I don't know. I don't know. I have no solution. I don't even care. I just wanted to be honest somewhere.
Thank you everyone who is supportive. I deeply appreciate the support.